


Remember Who You Are

by SpaceUnicornDot



Category: Star Stable
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceUnicornDot/pseuds/SpaceUnicornDot
Summary: Astor takes Merlin out on the Firgrove mountain trails late at night to try to clear his head after recent events and finds something unexpected.





	Remember Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of the items you can find in the Red String Trail event and some headcanons between Liv and I for our dearest OCs.

Spring. A time of renewal and rebirth. On Jorvik, that meant new foals were frolicking in the fields and paddocks across the island, fields were being prepared for the growing season, and riders were back out in force, preparing for the fairer weather ahead - granted, in more recent years, the difference had been more subtle. That tended to happen when there wasn’t snow and freezing temperatures that hindered your will to get in the saddle.

And this island lived and _breathed_ horses. There hadn't been much of a difference to begin with.

But, unfortunately, the dark forces Astor had been fighting against his entire life, that had threatened the island for centuries, rarely slept regardless of snowfall or devilishly playful foals.

He’d been told more times than he’d ever cared to count that he cared too much, got too invested when there was almost certainly just going to be another generation, that, too soon, good things ended. He knew it too well, of course. You couldn’t live for as long as he had and not be all too familiar with the stinging reality of time’s incessant march.

But life wasn’t truly lived without caring, without connecting. If they were supposed to help these kids in the fight of their lives… how did you avoid becoming connected? How _could_ you?

He didn’t. He never wanted to. It was callous, heartless, had a dangerous potential for slipping into downright _cruel_.

Even a Soul Rider was, at their heart, human. Well, “ _human_.” That was a tricky thing. Because some of them certainly were not of this world.

But no less good people for it. _What_ was never the problem. It rarely was. Problems were always about attitude and perception.

It’d been a long time since he had lost so much in such a short time. While the weeks that had passed had dulled the sharp, stabbing pain of losing Elizabeth, it remained. Alex had nearly gotten trapped, Daine had almost died, than vanished without a word to even Ydris for weeks, and Via had disappeared completely after that night in Guardian's Dale, only recently returning home. Anne was _physically_ home, but there was still a ways to go before things were even remotely ‘okay.’

He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , say ‘whole.’ You didn’t come back from something like that like you were before you went in. You didn’t lose _part of your soul_ and come back _whole_. It'd always be just a new mosaic made from whatever was left.

Merlin nickered beneath him, pulling Astor from the depths of his thoughts, though not quite completely from their grasp. He brushed a hand through the stallion’s thick coat of his neck before twisting a few fingers into his mane.

If they were honest, they were both older, more tired, now. They’d fought more than a hefty share of battles. Merlin’s once dappled coat was far more white now, and Astor had a few more scars.

He could almost feel his steed’s steadfast advice at the edge of his conscious - words he’d heard plenty of times by now, more than enough recently that he could probably recite them. But there was only so much words could do, no matter how sound their guidance.

Thankfully, Merlin spared him from them this time, making the decision to wander further down the trail. This late into the evening, few were ever out on the twisting trails of the Firgrove mountains. The darkness made their sudden drops and backtracks harder to see, and the spring rains had loosened the soil and rocks, not to mention the wolves that occasionally roamed down from further up the peaks.

He’d worry Evergray staying out like this with little note to where he was going to be, but, after everything, he needed some time alone with his thoughts.

Feeling Merlin plod steadily onward beneath him grounded him like nothing else. He’d trusted this horse with his life for the better part of over five hundred years, and that was just what came to quick memory. Tack was hardly ever necessary with the stallion, but, tonight, just for the light safety of it, he’d thrown on a western bridle, though his hands mainly braced against his thick neck, reins lightly held and slack, trusting Merlin to pick the best path forward.

They went on for a while, Astor occasionally giving the stallion a stroke down his neck or across his shoulders, head mostly bowed in thought, while Merlin picked up the mountain steadily.

This being Jorvik.., there were plenty of tales of strange sightings high in the mountains - ranging from tales of distant songs on the wind to rings of mushrooms filled with soft, dancing lights, UFOs to mysterious feelings creeping down the back of your spine.

And this being Jorvik, him being so old, whole other, magical worlds existing, Astor readily believed many of those stories to be true - _knew_ it.

An unexpected drop in the temperature of the air around them hadn’t initially drawn too much of Astor’s attention; they were climbing in altitude - such a fluctuation would be normal.

But it steadily, and quickly, grew rather cold for an early spring night, even through the long sleeves of his robes.

Merlin snorted as Astor reigned him back, eyes raised to the forest and shadows around them. The stallion’s ears twitched and then twisted, straining to pick up a sound.

A small burst of blue light suddenly flashed on the trail ahead of them before disappearing just as quickly. Merlin jerked his head up, pulling one hoof back a step before his ears twitched again.

Astor’s eyes narrowed before he slid neatly off of his companion, dropping his reins around his withers and giving him a pat on the neck.

Stranger things had happened.

 _"Careful,”_ Merlin warned with a soft snort. Astor gave him a nod before stepping forward. It seemed something had been left behind. The stallion followed close behind him. The last thing they needed right now was to be caught off-guard in some sort of trap.

After everything lately, it was far from impossible.

A hint of silver shone under the light of the moon between the blades of grass. Astor knelt and brushed them aside to find metal, almost ice cold to the touch - almost enough to make him draw away.

Almost.

 _“What is it?”_ Merlin came up beside him, blowing a breath softly over his rider’s hand.

“Rings.., I think…” Astor frowned lightly as he picked them up, letting them slide slightly in the palm of his hand.

At first glance, a possibly insignificant silver band - if you could miss the faintly blue-glowing inscriptions on the inside.

He thumbed one up to look closer, and, shortly, his frown turned to a faint, soft smile.

“Kallter,” he said, offering the bands out for his steed to inspect. “We need to go see my daughter.”


End file.
